The Martyr
by Rogue Hellsing
Summary: The policemen are bearing down on them, people are screaming, one of them got Sam, and Dean Winchester doesn't know if the rebellion against President Astair will last another day, until one of the police officers stops and listens, and turns against everything he's ever known. Written for all of those fighting for their rights.


**Author's Note:** Tiny Destiel ficlet written for all those fighting for freedom. Where ever you are, be it Venezuela, Ukraine, Syria, Turkey, or anywhere else where people are fighting for their rights, have faith, have strength, and most of all, please, please stay safe. May your God always be with you, and always keep you. For those who don't believe, I wish that you are always protected, safe, and loved. All of you, please, stay safe and strong. I love you.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Dean or Cas, Sam or Alastair. This fic cannot even begin to encapsulate the fear and the agony that so many face daily, so please, please, do not believe that what I have written is anywhere close to what people are facing. As a final note, this seems really depressing, but it ends in fluffy destiel fluff fluff fluff. So yeah.

* * *

"Stand your ground! We have to fight! We _have to fight!_" Dean shouted over the gunfire, over the panicked screams of his friends and allies. "We have to…" he ducked under the baton of a policeman, cursing under his breath, before he slammed into the officer's riot shield. The policeman staggered back, crumpling to the ground under the weight of his own shield. Dean heaved out a shaking breath and looked up. Around him, grenades hissed through clogged air and shattered into thick clouds of teargas. People screamed, helpless pleas falling on the deaf ears of the ranks of advancing policemen. On the right, friends crumpled under the batons of the officers, and to the left, protestors cried out over the spray of bullets.

"Dean!" His brother tackled him to the ground just as another round whizzed overhead. Sam's hair plastered his forehead, matted with sweat and dirt, the gash on his temple oozing blood alongside various other cuts on his arms and knuckles. "You gotta pay attention, Dean!" he grumbled, shoving himself to his feet and held out his hand. A policeman rammed into him, sending the two of them sprawling back to the ground.

"Sammy!" As Dean turned to lunge after his brother, a hand clamped down on his shoulder, spinning him around and sending him skidding into the concrete. His teeth clicked against the gravel, the rocks tearing his lips and cheeks until he tasted copper.

The policeman stood a few feet away, visor down, shield held at ready, his baton hanging loose in his hand. He watched, silent as Dean struggled to his feet.

Dean clenched his fists.

"Come on, you son of a bitch. Do it." He held his arms out, silent, waiting. The wind blew a shower of sparks and ashes into his face. The policeman hesitated. Dean snarled. "Do it!"

The officer narrowed his eyes and walked towards him, stopping only when his riot shield brushed against Dean's chest.

"Why do you do this? Fight a battle you must know you cannot possibly win?" he rumbled out, his voice shredded and strained over the din of the guns. Dean gritted his teeth.

"How can you just stand there and let this," he gestured at the protesters curled on the ground, police with batons standing over them. "happen?"

The policeman tilted his head, eyes narrowed. "You have challenged the authority of the President. It is my duty. I serve the Presidency, not you."

Dean grabbed his shoulders, their faces inches apart. "Can you honestly tell me that this, beating people, beating families in the streets is what's right?" he hissed. The officer drew in a sharp breath, his eyes wide and bright, oh so bright.

"That is not my decision to make,"

"Oh, fuck you! Haven't you heard of autonomy? Of free will? Of making it up as you go?"

The policeman stepped even closer, some kind of violent fury burning behind his eyes. "President Astair's laws and regulations are designed to grant maximum security to all citizens." Dean shoved him.

"Open your eyes, you dumb son of a bitch! Does this look like security? Does this look like safety to you?"

"Your reasoning is circular. You and the other protesters are a threat to other's security. It is my duty to quell any threats."

Dean grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. "You stupid, sorry bastard. The only threats are you and your _Presidency_ destroying everything because that's all that you think matters! You want to know what matters, hm, you arrogant dick?"

"Castiel."

"What?"

"My name is Castiel, not "you arrogant dick"," he spit, and Goddamn, he even used the air quotes, too.

"Right. Cas." He ignored the officer's irritated expression at the name abbreviation. "You want to know what matters? People. People, friends, families. That's what matters, Cas. And this government of yours is tearing that to shreds."

"President Asair is the closest we have come to creating a paradise here on Earth, and you are going to try and tear it down?"

"No. Not try. I _will_ tear it all down."

Around them the fighting raged on. Tanks roared into the square, the ground, the people trembling under the force of their treads. Dimly, Dean registered the screaming and the sickening crunch of bone as the tanks groaned into full sight. Dean glanced back at Castiel and staged back a step realizing how close the officer was.

"Why do you keep fighting this fight, when you know it to be futile?" he asked. Grime and dried sweat caught in valleys around his eyes and in the day old stubble that mottled his jaw.

"Because I have people – family, friends, my brother – that I have to protect. And your President wouldn't protect them. It'd all be a lie, you sorry son of a bitch. All that security? It's just fear tactics. And I can't let my brother live through that."

Castiel squinted at him, and he opened his mouth for a moment, before finally answering. "Your brother?" Dean stiffened.

"Don't worry, one of your dick-friends already nabbed him." He squared his shoulders, staring down at Cas, his eyes hard.

Cas frowned in response. "I suppose they intend to hurt him, then. Your brother, what is he like?"

The shatter of artillery howled overhead. Dean snorted.

"Sammy, he's… he's smart. Smarter than I'll ever be. He had a future, he was going to some fancy-ass college, too. But, dad and I convinced him to join the movement," he froze, then glared at the officer. "It's my job to keep him safe."

Cas gave him a long look, then shoved him the direction they'd taken Sam.

"I'll believe in your cause for now. I'll hold them off. I'll hold them all off. Go! Save your brother!" Cas turned, the harsh lights of the tanks burning the color from his silhouette.

"No, Cas-"

The officer paused. "Consider this… me making it up as I go." He tightened his grip on his baton and shield. With the din of the tanks roaring overhead, he stood, a single man lit up in a blaze of light.

Dean couldn't watch this.

He couldn't.

He turned.

And ran.

And didn't look back.

Not even when the screaming began.

* * *

Not long after, he found Sam hiding in an alleyway, having fought off his pursuers. He hugged his brother tight, not saying a word.

When they finally pushed into their apartment, Dean tore up the place until he found a pad of paper and began drawing. He'd never been any good at it, but this… this is had to do.

A single silhouette, going to his death in the same uniform as his enemies.

After months of half-assed posters and dinky slogans, finally, they had something iconic, something powerful.

Finally, they had a symbol for the revloution.

* * *

A year, two broken bones and a burn on his shoulder later, President Astair finally stepped down.

Finally. They were free.

"Dean! Dean!" Sam shoved through the crowds of celebrating people. "Dean, you've gotta come here. Now." He grabbed his brother's wrist and tugged him towards the outskirts of the crowd. Dean jerked his hand free.

"No, man. Tell me what's going on first!"

Sam groaned. "Dean, c'mon, man! We don't have time for this, we gotta go!" And without another word, he pulled his brother out of the mass of people and shoved him into a car, pulling the door shut after him. The driver took off immediately.

"Sam. Tell me what the hell's going on."

"Dean, just trust me. I know it's tough, just trust me on this."

Dean rolled his eyes but turned to look out the window. The scenery slipped by, all broken windows and burned down houses, but the people were in the streets cheering, celebrating. Finally happy, finally free.

"Sam, seriously,"

"Dean, shut up, we're here." And he was being pulled out of the car and yanked into one of the lesser run-down buildings and ushered through long, winding halls.

"You know, Dean, after that day I started looking, and looking, until I found him, and I couldn't believe it, especially after what you'd told me, so I didn't want to say anything, because they didn't know if he would make it,"

"Make what? _Who_, Sammy?"

Sam shoved him into a room at the end of the hall, an odd, half smile on his face. "Figure it out yourself, jerk."

The door slammed shut in his face.

"…bitch." He turned to survey the room.

And froze.

It couldn't.

There was…

It just…

He took a hesitant step forward. And another. And then another. The figure on the bed didn't move, save for soft, rasping breaths. Another step, and another. His fingers brushed the soft cotton of the bed sheets. Then, the scarred skin of…

Of…

"…Cas?"

The man's eyes flew open, searching blindly until they landed on Dean.

"…hello, Dean."

Dean sank down into the chair beside the bed.

"Holy shit, man, you're… you're alive and,"

"My back hurts, I have an itch on the back of my leg I can't scratch, and they tell me I will most likely be in here for another two months. It's already been a year, and I am very uncomfortable with the slow rate of recovery I am having to endure." Dean barked out a surprised laugh.

"Just the slow rate of recovery? Uh, not the shitty food, or the lack of hot babe nurses?"

Cas leveled a glare at him. "Neither of those would be an issue if I recovered more quickly," he sniped, his words lacking any of the sting. Dean managed a half smile, before clasping Cas on the shoulder.

"Man, am I glad to see you in one piece. Last time I saw you…" he closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, man. I almost got you killed."

Cas narrowed his eyes. "Why do you think you are to blame for this? I acted fully knowing the consequences. I did it because you deserved to be saved."

Dean was quiet.

Cas sighed, then grunted as he shifted around on his sheets, moving Dean's hand from his shoulder, until he could clasp it in his hand, staring intently at Dean all the while.

"Your brother told me of your victory. He is also how I found out your name, in case, you wanted to know." Cas seemed perfectly content to talk while holding Dean's hand.

"Cas-"

"The television reports also have said that it was you who became the leader of the movement."

"Cas-"

"At the point when you have saved the people from a tyrannical rule, how can you still not believe that you deserve to be saved, or that you are to blame for the tragedies of a civil war?"

Dean was silent.

"You are a hero. You saved your," Cas hesitated, looking for the words. "family and friends, and your brother, is how you put it, I think. You accomplished that which you sought to do. I don't understand why you think this, as you are clearly wro-"

Dean kissed him.

Looking back, it was probably an incredibly stupid thing to do, with Cas still hooked up to an IV, and with no way of knowing whether or not he was actually interested, but he was talking, and saying things that Dean couldn't handle, couldn't deal with at the moment.

So he kissed him, feeling his torn, chapped lips, and the huff of surprise ghosting against his skin, and then-

And then-

Cas kissed back.

* * *

_Thanks for reading, sorry it's so cliché at the end I'm a terrible person who has difficulty writing Dean Winchester, I'm so sorry. This is also a piss-poor piece of writing I threw together trying to get into the proper headspace to continue writing The Abolition of Man. So… thanks for dealing with this and reading it through! Please review!_


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